Red Roses
by cotecasasweatherly
Summary: Tony runs into some surprising guests in an Israel store just before Christmas.
1. Chapter 1

Maybe it's a curse, maybe it's a blessing. Anthony Dinozzo Jr. couldn't decide which one as the butterflies filled the pit of his stomach while standing in the foreign store. Native language echoed through his ears, people all around him speaking in a language that he lacked in and it swelled his nerves even more.

He rocked on both of his feet, clucking his teeth together and straining his eyebrows while staring at the rack of flowers before him. Balancing a card and multiple items to make a scrumptious dinner in his arms, he grabbed a bouquet of red roses from the rack and wandered down the aisle.

_Shit, I forgot the wine _Tony pivoted and headed towards the back of the store, smiling at the women he passed in the aisle. Humming away in his head to Puccini, the tall Italian man grabbed the most expensive bottle of wine the store had to offer before turning down the next aisle. He was looking down at all the items in his hand when he looked up quickly, noticing a tall, dark man in front of him.

"'Scuse me," The Italian muttered going around the man before his heart broke in two to the sound that filled his ears next.

"Honey, what kind of-" the words stopped along with the figure who just stepped into the same aisle. "Tony…"

The world was spinning, knocking his lungs out. For a moment he wondered if this was all some terrible nightmare and he was back in the lab with the plague taking over his body, soul and mind.

"Tony…" The figure stepped closer to him, staring at him deeply, but he flinched away.

She knew his mind was racing. She _always_ knew.

Tony's breath hitched and before he knew it, his legs were working before his brain and moving them away from this, from her and….**him**.

"Tony…I can explain!" She ran after him through the aisles, catching up to him and grabbing his arm to hold him back.

He snarled, "Explain what Zee-vah?" Her name rolled off his tongue and for a second she felt like she could throw up "Explain that I come to surprise you and here you are with fucking Adam?!"

Ziva looked off to the side, rubbing her arm nervously before she quietly spoke "I thought you would have moved on…"

"Clearly, we both thought differently." Tony bit back.

She blinked rapidly, fighting back the tears and looked at the items in his hands. "Those roses are beautiful." she quietly choked out.

"Yeah, I knew you would think so." Tony stated matter of factly before looking around the store, setting the items down. "I'll be on my way. You have a good life, Zi." He backed away from her slowly, holding his hands up in defeat.

"Tony," Ziva cried out, "Can we please talk?"

The dark haired man shook his head at her then turned around. She watched Anthony Dinozzo walk out of the store and out of her life. She stood there for a moment, not being able to breathe while tears streamed down her face.

"You alright?" Adam called from behind her.

"No, I do not think I ever will be." She whispered, watching out the door.

Adam came up to her, wrapping his arms around her shoulder "Come on, babe. Let's finish getting the rest we need for dinner." He grabbed her hand and pulled her away slowly from where she was standing.

An hour later, Ziva and Adam pulled up to her childhood home where she was still residing these past two years. She didn't want to be out in the open so, she had planned on staying here for a few more years because she wasn't ready to be anywhere else just yet.

Adam got out of the car and headed to the trunk to get the bags of groceries they had just bought. Ziva went to join him when something on the porch caught her eye. She diverted to the porch and gulped, realizing what it was.

On the porch lay the bouquet of red roses with an envelope. She crouched down slowly, one tear dripping down her cheek and opened the envelope.

_Merry Christmas and Happy Hanukkah, sweetcheeks._

_I know this time of year is always so hard for you because of Tali and there's no opera in Israel so, two tickets for Puccini concert in Lucca on December 26__th__. There's two plane tickets here also and a hotel room reserved._

_Do what you want with them._

_Tony._

The pain in her chest almost made her topple over onto the cold, hard ground. He had come to surprise her and take her to Puccini concert in Italy because he knew Thanksgiving and Hannukkah reminded her of baby sister, Tali. But she had been too stubborn, too reserved on the idea that he had found someone else while she was gone and tried to move on herself when she was in fact, completely wrong. He had waited for her and now, nothing could stop the waterfall down her face and the gripping of her hand to her chest while she fought to breathe.

If there was something that killed her, it wouldn't be a terrorist or agent plotting for revenge on her father. No, it would be a broken heart.


	2. Chapter 2

"What are you doing?" Adam called out sleepily from behind her as she threw her camouflaged duffle bag onto the porch.

"I cannot do this anymore," She muttered, walking past him and into her childhood kitchen.

Adam rubbed the back of his neck with his palm, "I don't understand what the hell happened last night."

Ziva peeked out the kitchen window at the sun rising in the distance over the horizon, "You know exactly what happened. I am well aware that you saw him." Her hand caressed the vase where the bouquet of red roses rested inside. With one hand she held onto the vase, while the other pulled the flowers out, thorns scraping her olive skin and shook the remaining water off the flowers over the kitchen sink. Walking outside to the porch, she opened the duffle bag and threw the flowers inside and zippered the bag back up.

"Get your things," Her voice raised to the man inside, "I am leaving and so are you. If you do not leave, I will charge you with trespassing on my father's property." She grabbed the key to the house off the cabinet beside her.

"What the hell is going on?! It's the Holidays, Ziva." Adam threw his hands in the air, "We've been staying here together for the past year, what changed?"

"It was a huge mistake. I am sorry for the change of plans and feelings. Now please, go pack up your things so I can lock up the house and be on my way" Her tone changed to soft and pleading as she watched him disappear into the house.

A half an hour later, Adam walked out with a suitcase in hand and confusion settled on his face. He sighed, walking out to the porch where she was waiting patiently for him with a key in her hand.

"Will I ever see you again, Ziva?" he asked knowing the answer, but still questioned her motives.

"I do not know, but I must go." Ziva's eyes glanced at the plane tickets in her hand from the envelope she discovered last night. "Thank you for gathering your things on such a short notice." She turned away from him, closing the door to the house and putting in the key, locking it.

Adam awkwardly tried to hug her goodbye, but she flinched away, turning her head to the side when she saw him leaning in for a kiss. He sighed angrily, shaking his head and moved towards his car to pack up his things.

Ziva stood silently, looking around the olive orchard where so many things had happened. Her mind flashed back to Tony finding her here, a year and half ago then flashed to her and Tali skipping through the olive trees when they were younger. Her mother's laugh rang in her ears, tears becoming visible when she took one last look at the house and land it settled on. She had been dazed off for so long, Adam already had left and continued on his way. Gaining her confidence again, she packed her bag into the car and began on her way to the Tel Aviv airport.

Once at the airport, she checked in on the flight to Lucca that Tony had ordered for them. After getting a quick bite to eat while waiting for the flight to board, she decided to try and call Tony on his cell phone. No answer. Sighing and looking at the second plane ticket to Lucca once more, she dialed McGee.

"Timothy McGee," He answered in his most professional voice.

"Shalom Mahgee," She smiled and said his name in her native tone.

"Ziva," the young man perked up, "Wow, it's so nice to hear from you. How are you?"

"I am alright. How are you, Tim?"

"Doing good, thanks. So, what are the reasons for this surprising call?" He teased her.

"I am sure you may know that _someone_ had plans to come see me, yes?"

"Oh," She could hear the puzzle pieces clicking together in his head or was it piecing together? "So, that's where he went. Wait… he said he would be back here tonight though? Is everything alright?" McGee's voice automatically grew concerned.

"No. No, it is not. I was hoping that you could catch him before he got back to the states and tell him that I will meet him in Lucca?" She hoped McGee would help her out since Tony wasn't answering any of her calls.

"Ah, that's why he wanted me to help him get Puccini tickets! Of course, I'll try to get a hold of him. Anything for you, Ziva." He smiled even though he knew she couldn't see him.

"Thank you very much, Magee." The attendants called overhead on the speakers that her flight was boarding. "I am sorry, but my flight to Lucca is boarding so I must go."

"Okay, it was nice hearing from you, Ziva." He paused before speaking again, "We really miss you here, you know?"

"I miss you all so much. Hopefully I can come home soon, yes?" She giggled, "Goodbye, Magee."

And with that, she hung up the phone and made her way towards the terminal exit, handing her passport and ticket to the attendant. Praying inside her head, this would be the last time she would be in the country of broken dreams and death. That is, if all went right and if the man she might of just lost forever, eventually met up with her in Lucca.


	3. Chapter 3

_Red, thin liquid dripped down her head as it hit the hard, dirty concrete beneath her. The coolness of the ground eased the pain thumping at the front of her cranium and she closed her eyes, waiting for the sound of whips to end. She could feel the marks on her back become deeper and the blood begin to pool at her side. The man that stood behind her finally exiting her body leaving her to feel numb and broken. The head of the men, gripped her chin and slapped her cheek with his other hand while he praised her for being "a good little whore" for his men. She heard him tell the others to leave before grabbing her neck. He asked if she would do the same for him, his fingers pressing roughly into the side of her neck. She contemplated how to fight back and her tongue swirled around her dry mouth, collecting all the saliva she could quickly produce before spitting in his face. There wasn't much saliva there after being starved and thirsty from being held captive here in the desert for what seemed like an eternity, but there was enough to make him mad and she knew she would pay the consequences._

_He slapped her across the face before punching her directly in the eye and she screamed out in agony. Her left eye refused to open after this, the swelling and bruising taking over quickly. His hands went down to unbuckle his pants and she tried to move away from him, but her hands were tied to tight to the pole above her that she couldn't go anywhere far. Rough, large hands threw her body onto the ground, her ribs hitting the ground and she heard a crack. The searing pain that overtook her made her sees stars, her hearing coming and going and she finally screamed when he entered her, dry. He held her down as he proceeded to rape her, again. She tried to squirm away, but he threw her head into the ground and she cried out. There was no way she would ever win this war. She would die here and no one would ever know, but her father. Maybe that was for the better. It is not like anyone ever cared that much for her anyways. She was and would always be the heartless assassin that never had a future, or someone to love. Her mind drifted, numb to the world as her forehead moved up and down on the concrete. There was a pool of blood around her body and she knew that this might be the end because he would take his time with her as a punishment. _

_Soon enough to her advantage, the door to her cell kept jingling. The metal kept hitting other pieces of metal as one of his men tried to get in and were yelling for his help. She recalled one of the men yelling that there were intruders in their camp and she thrashed away from the man on top of her. Luckily enough, the cell door kept jingling as she thrashed and the man quickly removed himself from inside of her, putting himself away before leaving to go help his men. She lay there on the cold ground, head throbbing and hearing going in and out._

Ziva's eyes flashed open, sweat beads running down her face along with a steam of black makeup. Her heart raced and she looked around, realizing she was in a hotel room in Lucca. Her legs had kicked the covers off in the wake of her nightmare so, little goose bumps had developed on her flesh.

It had been twelve hours since she had arrived in Lucca, the Puccini would be starting in another twelve. Her heart hurt. He had not shown like she thought he would or perhaps McGee could not even convince him to come. But, hell. Should she really be surprised? He hated her the first time Adam happened, he probably only hated her more for the second, the last time.

Her stomach grumbled and she realized she had not eaten anything since she was in Tel Aviv. But, she was too lazy and depressed to even think of moving. Not to mention, she did not get any sleep while she was at this hotel so, she settled her head back down on the feathered pillow and closed her eyes.

Drifting back into where she didn't want to be, she heard the jingling of her cell door once more. If there were intruders, this would definitely be the end. The jingling continued on and Ziva's body instinctively reached under the hotel pillow and grabbed the barrel of the gun.

Her body shot out of bed when realization set in that the jingling was coming from the hotel door, not her head. She flipped the gun around, breathing heavily and aiming at the figure who turned the corner.

"Christ," The figure blurted out, "The fucking card wouldn't open the door."

Ziva stared at him and began to shake, tears flowing down her face once again. She dropped the gun, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." She kept repeating the phrase over and over and she dashed over to the figure. Her head buried into the figure's chest, her hands gripping the base of their shirt, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

The figure stood still, hands at their side and not moving as Ziva continuously apologized, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. They're back, Tony. They're back!" She screamed out, clutching his shirt even tighter and trying to get as close to him as she possibly could.

"Who's back?" Tony questioned, looking around the hotel room and noticed the covers on the ground and the pillows spread out all over the bed.

"Saleem and his men, Tony!" She wailed, trying to wrap herself around him.

And in that second, Anthony Dinozzo's heart shattered into a million pieces. One of his arms wrapped around her waist while the other came across her shoulders and to her heard. He slowly stroked his fingers through her hair, snuggling her into his chest before whispering, "How long have the nightmares been back?"

"Since you left Israel." Her voice was muffled through his shirt.

He pulled her head back to look at her face and noticed she had bags under her eyes. Her small bit of eye makeup was smudged down her face from crying and her curly hair was all over the place. Tony sighed, "You haven't slept at all, I can tell. Come on," He pointed his hand towards the bed and let go of her. She walked towards the bed and waited as he fixed the comforter and blankets back to where they belonged. "Get in," he cooed and helped tuck her side in.

"I do not-" Ziva began, but Tony interrupted her.

"My bladder is telling me to hurry, I promise I'll be right back." He smirked before disappearing into the hotel bathroom.

Moments later, he came back out and found his bag that he had dropped onto the hotel floor. Opening it up, he took out a sweatshirt and sweat pants that he quickly changed into. He zipped up his bag, yawning in the process and walked over to the side of the bed. Throwing back the covers, he stared at the women on the other side. The brown pools that he loved to stare into were wide, nervousness reflecting off of them. Tony slowly climbed into the bed, facing her.

"If we go to sleep, we will miss the show?" Her voice came out in a low whisper.

"No. Puccini doesn't start for another 10 hours." He smiled, noticing her expression not changing. "Get over here," he moved closer to her and she unsurely moved towards him, stifling when his arm draped over her hip. "It's just me…" Tony whispered, rubbing small circles on her back, "go to sleep. I'm right here. You're safe"

To that, she closed her eyes and laid her head in the crook of his neck and half on his chest. Her breath fanned on his neck and he smiled, kissing her temple.

"You have always kept them away, Tony." Ziva stated matter of factly to him and within a few minutes, he felt her breath steady out indicating she was finally asleep. Tony looked around the hotel room and his eyes flashed upon a vase with the dozen red roses he had bought for her days earlier. He laughed to himself as he noticed their half dead, half smushed state and he wondered how the hell she managed to get them here to Italy. He realized in this moment how much the roses had symbolized the women in his arms. Yeah, they had been bruised, smushed and torn through their whole life, but they were still the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on. He would spend the rest of his life making sure he watered and cared for _that_ rose, even though a few thorns had plucked him along the years. She was his and always would be the ripe, glistening rose that meant more to him than anything and he would make sure his she wouldn't get torn apart anymore.


End file.
